


The Stars

by Forever_Imagining



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Death, mount weather metion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Imagining/pseuds/Forever_Imagining
Summary: You were stuck in Mount Weather along with the other 47. When you came back, you just had to know what happened to your friend, John Murphy.





	1. Chapter 1

Be happy. You got out. You’re gonna see your family again. You were away from Mount Weather. You won’t have to endure the torture you saw others go through. However, seeing the children and innocent people everywhere, you couldn’t help but feel sorry.

Something else, however, was missing. Or rather someone. 

You had asked the doctors. They didn’t know. So, you went to Raven. “Raven?”

She nodded. “Yeah?”

“Have you seen Murphy around?”

She stiffened. The mechanic looked up at you. “You don’t know?”

You could feel the blood pounding in your ears. “Don’t know what?”

She sighed. Raven rarely felt sorry for people, but you were different. You reminded her of Finn, a caring spirit who never should have been experienced to what has happened. She knew that you were friends with Murphy. Raven also was aware of the way the two of you looked at each other. You two liked each other more than friends should. It was a shame that you may never come to terms with your feelings.

Raven turned in her chair to face you. “(Y/n), Murphy’s gone.” 

You didn’t know what to say. It had to be a mistake. “He died?” You clutched your chest.

Raven added, “Well, Jaha took some people and supplies and headed to a mythical City of Light. A few came back and said something along the lines about everyone dying by starvation, and if not the bandits.” She clenched her fists. “I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

You couldn’t breathe. He may not have been your best friend or anything, but he was important to you. He always managed to know when you were not yourself and made you feel better, whether it was cracking a joke or just staying silent and sitting with you. John Murphy was there for you and was able to see through all of your lies. He couldn’t be gone. He was the only one that saw through your act. 

You remember the first time it happened. You were stressed over the entire whatever-the-hell-we-want phase. Sure, you embraced it at first, but it seemed to get a little out of hand. To clear your mind, you separated yourself from the 100 and stared at the stars.

“This is not what we meant by whatever the hell we want.”

You shrugged. “That’s not your problem to deal with.” You smiled at the end of your sentence. You knew he hated it when you smiled too much. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What happened to you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your smile’s fake.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to talk about anything at the moment. You didn’t trust him yet. “Go do whatever the hell you want, Murphy. I’m sure it isn’t being here.”

Murphy hesitated before finally settling on scoffing. “Whatever, (Y/n).” You heard his footsteps fade. You turned around. You remember you regretted your decision of brushing him off. Despite the weird feeling in your gut, you turned back around to look at the night sky.

Little did you know, Murphy looked back, too. A part of him wished he stayed.

Soon, the short meetings got longer. You learned his first name, his favorite food, and even a few tickle spots. He stayed by you when you stared at the stars. You stayed by him when he got into trouble. It became a regular thing for you to do. Even when you were separated, individually, you’d look at the stars.

Bringing yourself back to reality, you swallowed slowly. “Oh,” was all you were able to choke out. With that, you immediately exited the tent and made your way to the edge of Camp Jaha. 

Knowing you were alone, you cried. He couldn’t be gone! Your body dropped. You punched the ground. You felt so empty. You care for him! You need him! You love him!

You gasped at your own realization. You love John Murphy. You choked out with even more sobs. Yes, you love John Murphy, and you’d never be able to tell him. You thought he was dead

Meanwhile, as Murphy covered his face from the dust storm, he looked at the dark sky, searching for stars. He still felt as empty as he did when he left camp. But what did it matter? He thought you were dead.


	2. Chapter 2

With Murphy’s death hanging over your head for the last two years, you have learned to, at the very least, act normally. You desperately wanted to mourn with someone, but seeing how everyone in Camp Jaha didn’t really care about him, you couldn’t mourn without being degraded.

So, you kept to yourself. You worked around camp, hunted, healed, and even helped Bellamy. He lost Clarke; you lost Murphy. It was natural that the two of you go a little closer. Not close enough to be friends, but enough to be able to not have any awkward silences. Being somewhat friends with Bellamy had its perks. You got more involved with politics and even earned some respect around camp. This allowed you to have permission to the guns at camp.

In fact, you were practicing shooting with Bellamy when the inevitable happened.

There was an alert throughout camp. An unknown vehicle was approaching the gates.

Bellamy, being Clarke’s replacement as a leader, pushed his way through the crowd. You followed him, wanting to see who was at the gates. The guard still had their guns pointed at the unknown figure when you got to the front. Bellamy demanded, “Who are you, and what do you want?”

The figure was on some type of vehicle, similar to the motorcycles in books you’ve read. However, it was slightly different. Your eyes traveled up, stopping when you saw the helmet. The person seemed so familiar. However, how could he be? This young man was well-dressed and actually clean. There was no dirt or grime anywhere on his body. You’ve never known anyone with the resources to look like he did. Well, except he Mountain Men.

You froze up at the thought of them. You remembered getting out of the prison, dead bodies everywhere. They were well-dressed and clean. Each pair of eyes was open and never moved. Rashes covered the body. One little girl, she could not be any older than ten, was reaching for a soccer ball. A boy was lifeless in a chair, a small stuffed elephant still in his lap.

The thoughts took so much of your attention that you didn’t notice the man take off his helmet.

Not paying attention, you mumbled to Bellamy, “I need to go.” You pushed through the crowd, trying to keep calm and dismiss the depressing thoughts. Once you were away from the crowd, you let a few tears fall. You were living for what? Your parents? Your parents died when coming down here. Friends? The only person you were actually close with was Murphy. Love?

You bit your lip. Murphy’s dead.

“(Y/n)?”

Great, you were hearing him, too. This did happen sometimes, the hallucinations. You shook your head, not daring to turn around. “You’re not real,” you whispered.

“(Y/n).”

Suddenly, there was warmth on your shoulder. You opened your eyes ever so slowly. It couldn’t be. You turned your head to look at the source of the sudden warmth on your shoulder. A hand was rested there. You turned your neck even more and gasped at the sight.

“Murphy?”

The boy looked so different. Murphy blinked. Once. Twice. Murphy pulled you into a tight embrace. He couldn’t believe it. You were alive! You didn’t die in the mountain! He couldn’t help it. He smiled. Murphy wanted to say something. He really did, but he just couldn’t fathom the fact that you were alive and in his arms.

You couldn’t move for a second or two, still shocked that Murphy was alive. He was alive. John Murphy is alive! You laughed at the thought. You beamed and wrapped your arms around his neck. You reveled the feel of being in his arms. He’s never actually hugged you before, so the feeling was new. It was exhilarating, happy, passionate.

Without a second thought, you loosened your grip on him and kissed him.

You friend was surprised, but kissed you back.

It felt so right. Your lips moved together and fit so perfectly together. You loved it. He loved it, too. Murphy could taste the salt from your tears, making him kiss you even harder. He didn’t want you sad. Sure, when the two of you first met, he got easily annoyed because you kept on smiling. But now, he couldn’t imagine you sad. Murphy didn’t want you sad.

When your lungs started to burn, you pulled away.

But, just a second later, Murphy kissed you again, long and hard. His hands traveled to your waist. One trailed upwards and caressed your cheek. You pulled him closer, running your fingers through his hair.

He pulled away first this time, resting his forehead on yours.

You laughed with delight. “You’re not dead,” you stated with a smile.

He smirked. “Neither are you.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Murphy.”

“Easy.” He lifted your chin so he could look into your eyes. “I love you, so I kissed you.”

You sighed. The three words, those specific three words you only heard in stories, made you smile. “That’s good. ‘Cause I love you, too.”


End file.
